


This Is Only Gonna Hurt

by Lara Winner (rah10381)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Abuse, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Jaded Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Mild Sexual Content, Physical Abuse, Rebellious Adrien Agreste, Shitty Parent Gabriel Agreste, Shitty Parent Sabine Cheng, Soulmates, The Gritty Soulmate AU No One Asked For But I'm Writing Anyway, Young Adults Dealing the Best They Can, no kwamis, the kids are not alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rah10381/pseuds/Lara%20Winner
Summary: Marinette doesn’t want a soulmate. Neither does Adrien. For two souls that are meant for each other, trying to keep love out of the equation is like rubbing salt into their already wounded hearts.
Relationships: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste
Comments: 51
Kudos: 324





	1. The fire's gonna burn

**Author's Note:**

> A few things I’d like to clarify for the reader. Adrien is not a model in this fic nor is Marinette into fashion. There are also mentions of teens being teens, as in mild marijuana use, underage drinking at parties and sexual situations. Everyone in this fic is seventeen or older unless specified. Please read responsibly. 
> 
> Song: Martin Garrix & Bebe Rexha - “In The Name Of Love”

_If I told you this was only gonna hurt_

_If I warned you that the fire's gonna burn_

_Would you walk in?_

_Would you let me do it first?_

_Do it all in the name of love_

The first time they kiss, Marinette doesn't even know his name.

He tastes like spiked strawberry kool-aid and looks like a runway model with sun-gold hair, emerald green eyes and a boyish grin that does things to her insides she didn't know was possible.

She knows she's in trouble the minute their eyes meet amidst the flashing kaleidoscope of lights, but the alcohol makes her reckless. That's the only logical reason she can give for accepting pretty-boy's hand as he jerks his head toward the dance floor, silently inviting her to brave the deafening pulse of the music.

Alya did drag her to this rave to have fun.

Later, Marinette blames her best friend's tipsy thumbs up for finding herself in a secluded corner with a pretty-boy who's kisses melt her faster than chocolate over an open flame.

She doesn't do hookups but she can't bring herself to care because his lips are soft and decadent against her own as his hands move a restless path from her ribs down to her hips...

It isn't until the next morning, blinking against the bright sunlight streaming through Alya’s bedroom window, that Marinette notices the soul mark on her wrist.

Marinette's alarmed wail causes Alya to bolt upright, frantically feeling around for her glasses as she croaks, “What? What is it?”

Marinette can’t answer, her steady chant of “no..no..no…” is the only thing keeping the panic attack crawling up her throat at bay.

Wincing, Alya pushes her glasses back up toward her bloodshot eyes. "Guuurl, take it down a notch please."

Alya's hangover is the furthest thing from Marinette's mind as she stares in horror at the foreign marking on her inner wrist. The design is intricate, almost elegant as it shimmers silver against her pale skin.

Alya’s honey eyes widen. “Oh shit.”

It's Marinette’s terrified tears that have Alya stumbling over and wrapping her in a crushing hug. "Calm down, Mari. It’ll be okay. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. Most people have amazing relationships with their soulmates, you know that."

Marinette knows she is right. Hell, Alya and her soulmate Nino are a prime example of relationship goals. Still, it doesn't stop the panic from practically incapacitating her.

"I don't even know his name," she whimpers.

“Nino knows a ton of people that were there last night. I’ll get him to ask around. Someone is bound to know blondie’s name,” Alya soothes.

“I don’t want to know his name, Al. I don’t want this at all.” 

“I know, honey. I know.”

Shaking, Marinette crumbles under the weight of her rotten luck, anxiety and anger churning her stomach not unlike the residual effects of the alcohol still lingering in her system. She cries tears born of frustration because thanks to fate, she no longer has a choice. She’s now bound inextricably to some random stranger and it doesn’t matter that old-fashion notions like love and fidelity and happily ever after don’t really exist; she’s as good as branded like fucking cattle, like goddamn property. 

More than anything, she hopes pretty-boy doesn’t seek her out. If he does, she might be tempted to feel sorry for him. It will be a real shame if he’s expecting her to welcome him with open arms. 

Marinette doesn’t plan on going down without a fight.

* * *

Over the course of the next week, Marinette gets good at hiding her soul mark. 

Finding her soulmate at the end of summer break has her struggling for some semblance of normalcy from before everything went sideways. The less people that know the better, and certainly not her mother. Just the thought of Sabine’s reaction and the inevitable argument that will ensue is enough to make Marinette shudder.

She’s not looking forward to starting her terminale year of lycee with some bullshit soul mark on display. She will hide it as much as she can, especially from herself.

So when the first day of school rolls around, Marinette has just about stopped looking over her shoulder, half expecting pretty-boy to show up and complicate an already complicated thing even more. As far as she knows, Nino never got a name and no one has tried to find out hers on pretty-boy’s behalf either.

Running late, as usual, Marinette should have been paying better attention as she belined through the school’s courtyard. Glancing around for her friends, only to catch sight of Juleka’s purple tipped hair disappearing into the entrance of the main building, she isn’t looking where she steps. The tip of her shoe catches on stone and the next thing she knows she’s laid out on the ground in front of everyone, her book bag spilling open and her books flying everywhere.

Face flaming with mortification, Marinette scrambles onto her knees and reaches for her books as tittering laughter echoes in her ears. She stiffens, her stomach lurching as a familiar, snooty voice rises above the rest.

“Hot mess Marinette strikes again.”

Marinette glares daggers at the perfectly coiffed blond as the pretentious girl flicks her ponytail over her shoulder and folds her arms. 

“Good one, Chloé.” Of course Sabrina just has to chime in. “She’s so spastic it’s painful to watch,” the red-head snickers. 

“Are you for real? I could watch at this train wreck all day,” says Lila, the third mean girl to round out Chloé’s little bitch brigade.

Marinette fights back the tears of infuriated embarrassment that sting her eyes as Lila reaches down for her textbook, snatching it out of her grasp and holding it out tauntingly. The brunette smiles smugly but then yelps as the book is ripped out of her hand followed by a curt “I’ll take that, thank you.” 

Marinette’s heart squeezes painfully, dread settling like lead in her stomach, as she recognizes the gentle green eyes assessing her worriedly. 

“Here,” pretty-boy says, holding out the textbook tentatively. 

Marinette takes the physics book, averting her eyes as he crouches down and helps her gather everything that has fallen about. When all of her things are collected, he holds out a hand to help her up. She takes it gingerly and lets him tug her to her feet, her face pale despite the humiliated flush to her cheeks.

“Thanks,” she mumbles softly.

“Are you okay?” he asks guardedly but with genuine concern.

Marinette can only nod, not trusting her voice to remain steady. 

Not one to be ignored, Chloé steps forward and latches onto the boy’s arm, distaste twisting the other girl’s comely features into a visage that is just as nasty on the outside as she is on the inside.

“Come on, Adrakins.” Chloé tugs his arm. “We don’t slum it with losers like her,” she snaps scathingly.

Pretty-boy jerks his arm free with a roll of his eyes, his wary expression turning stony. “Fuck, Clo! For once could you not be a bitch?” 

Outside of the tense little bubble that has formed around Marinette and the waspish girl she considers the bane of her existence, the first bell sounds in the distance. It goes ignored by Chloé and pretty-boy as they glower at each other.

“Are you really going to take up for her?” she finally asks, managing to sound both incredulous and wounded at the same time.

Pretty-boy doesn’t bat an eye. “The three of you better leave her alone. I’m dead serious. Lay off, got it?” When his warning glare shifts to include Lila and Sabrina, the brunette huffs in annoyance but otherwise says nothing.

Seeing that she isn’t going to get her way, Chloé pretends to examine her manicured nails as if she isn’t seething with anger. “Whatever,” she replies flippantly, “You’ve always been a sucker for a good charity case.”

With that last cutting remark, the blond brat motions for her minions to follow and saunters up the front steps.

Pretty-boy watches the bitch brigade walk away, his expression somewhere between uneasy and contrite. “I’m sorry. You’re not hurt, are you?” he finally asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he dares to meet her eyes.

_This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Oh fuck, it’s actually happening..._

Marinette nods stiffly. “I’m fine.” When he continues to look uncertain she insists, “Really. I’m okay.”

When she moves to pick up her book bag he beats her to it saying, “Please, allow me.” 

Marinette kind of wants to snatch her bag and run, the flight instinct is nearly as overwhelming as the anxiety closing her throat. But really, what’s the point? He’s a new student at her school which means they're going to see each other everyday. Maybe even have classes together, though she really hopes not, and there will be no way to escape him. None at all. 

As they walk into the school in heavy silence, Marinette tries to ignore the whispers and stares they receive by watching pretty-boy through the corner of her eye as he frowns, staring straight ahead. 

How is she going to survive her terminale year now? 

Finally he glances her way, seeming troubled. “Um, did…” he hesitates but at Marinette’s prompting nod he soldiers on, “did one of them trip you? I didn’t see exactly what happened…” He falls silent giving her the choice to answer.

Well, there’s more than one way to discourage unwanted interest. 

“No, that was all me. Most days I’m as graceful as a baby deer on a frozen lake,” she snarks taking shelter behind her brutal honesty. 

Pretty-boy lets out a surprised laugh at her unexpected answer. “I think we all have our moments.” 

When they reach the locker room, he holds open the door like a proper gentleman and follows Marinette to her locker, returning her book bag. “I’m really sorry about Chloé,” he says with a helpless shrug. “She’s…” he pauses, at a loss for words. 

“A nightmare.” The insult is out of her mouth before Marinette can think better of it but since she’s not trying to impress pretty-boy, she bites back the knee jerk apology that would normally follow her callous words. 

“Yeah, she deserves that,” he chuckles humorlessly, rubbing the back of his neck again as his expression goes serious once more. “Look, don’t let them get to you. Just tell them to fuck off. If that doesn't work then come to me and I’ll deal with them, okay?”

While she suspects he means well, she can’t dismiss Chloe’s parting remark or how his offer will only make the bitch brigade’s bullying worse when he’s not around. She really tries not to bristle but her reply holds a derisive edge as she says, “I’m not a charity case.”

To his credit, pretty-boy looks horrified. “Of course you’re not, Marinette. I want to help you because,” he hesitates for a split second too long as his eyes flick to her left wrist where her soul mark is carefully covered with multi-colored scrunchies, “I’d like for us to be friends.”

Friends?

She can do “friends” if that’s his agenda.

Marinette finds it hard to keep questioning pretty-boy’s sincerity when he smiles hopefully. It seems to light him up from the inside. “Okay,” she relents, flashing him a small smile in return, some of her anxiety easing. “But I don’t even know your name. I’m kind of at a disadvantage here.”

For a moment he seems shell-shocked. “You don’t know- Wow. I guess I never actually introduced myself, did I?”

Marinette shakes her head, stifling a laugh.

It only takes a second for his grin to turn cheeky, a smile she remembers best highlighted by strobe lights with his lips kissably swollen- “Adrien Agreste, at your service.”

Adrien.

His name is Adrien. 

Before she can process this new information the second bell sounds and Marinette jumps, startling so violently that she nearly drops her textbook and book bag all over again. 

Adrien coughs, trying to suppress a chuckle.

She hefts her book awkwardly, smiling back wryly. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Anytime,” he replies easily. “I’ll catch you later.”

With a wave Adrien disappears into the sea of students leaving Marinette feeling equally intrigued and unnerved; because until they address the pink elephant between them, there will definitely be a next time. 

* * *

It’s common knowledge among her classmates that Marinette works most evenings at the bakery across the street from the high school. So when Adrien turns up one afternoon sporting a friendly smile and a raging sweet tooth, she’s sort of been expecting it. Everyone, even the bitch brigade, has come in at least once.

What does surprise her is how quickly it becomes a regular thing.

Because at school, Adrien keeps his distance. Sure he smiles at her when they pass in the halls but they don’t have any shared classes so their interactions are minimal at best. It’s an immeasurable relief that he doesn’t pester her or go out of his way to corner her and pressure her into anything she doesn’t want.

It isn’t until Adrien starts coming into the bakery several times a week that she starts getting glimpses into the boy who is supposedly her perfect match. First thing she learns is that he is a flirt. The second is that his sense of humor is as corny as his penchant for one liners.

Marinette doesn’t take him the least bit seriously.

Adrien is gleefully delighted by every eye roll and smart ass come back she gives in return. 

Neither mentions the soul marks on their wrists.

It’s a comfortable truce. He’s silly, but not disrespectful, and always manages to brighten Marinette's day with his antics. They’re on their way to becoming friends and it’s proving to be as easy as breathing. Which is the only reason why she casually lets slip what time she takes her break, curious to see if he will start coming later instead of right after school.

Two days later he shows up at seven pm on the dot.

If Marinette’s smile is a little wider than normal, well, it certainly has nothing to do with Adrien Agreste. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.- So this is what I do when one fanfic is giving me trouble, I start another. (0_o)


	2. When there's no one by your side

_Would you let me lead you even when you're blind?_

_In the darkness, in the middle of the night_

_In the silence, when there's no one by your side_

_Would you call in the name of love?_

  
  


Just because Marinette and Adrien never bring up the topic of their soul marks, they certainly don’t lack for interesting conversation. Currently they are sitting on the bakery’s back steps discussing anime because Adrien has been eager to expand her limited knowledge beyond the most popular titles.

“Did you finish watching Paranoia Agent?” he asks, before taking a generous bite of his éclair. 

Marinette pulls a face, bracing her elbows on her knees. “Yes and it still doesn’t make a bit of fucking sense.”

Under the sunset sky, Adrien’s handsome features are cast in hues of gold as he grins, a bit of chocolate glaze at the corner of his lips. “It’s meant to be introspective.”

“It’s weird. Obviously I missed something. So like, was Lil’ Slugger a legit kid or some evil entity?”

“There never was a Lil’ Slugger. It was just a lie that became a scape-goat for people to blame all of their negative emotions and actions on. And from there it spawned a mass wave of delusional paranoia. He's given a physical representation so the viewer can see how much the lie continues to evolve and eventually begins influencing the people that use it,” Adrien explains, looking quite proud of himself as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Marinette blinks. “It was still weird.”

“Check out Argento Soma and then get back to me,” he laughs. “Actually, I take that back. You need to watch Id:Invaded.”

“What’s that one about?” she asks curiously.

“Detectives that use a virtual reality system to solve murders,” he shrugs. “It’s pretty fucked up, though.”

“That sounds cool.” Unceremoniously, Marinette plucks the éclair out of Adren’s hand and takes a huge bite. 

Adrien stares at her in pure flabbergasted betrayal.

She arches a brow, mouth full of éclair. “Waut?” 

Adrien snatches back the remaining pastry and scoots away as far as the step will allow.

Laughter bubbles up Marinette’s throat and she almost chokes trying to swallow. 

“Nobody touches my precious…”

Marinette smirks: challenge accepted. She makes a grab to the treat. 

Adrien shoves the rest of the éclair into his mouth, cheeks puffing out to the max. Then he has to clap a hand over his mouth in order to actually chew and it’s so ridiculous that Marinette just laughs harder.

Playfully punching his shoulder, she rolls her eyes. “Dork.” 

Adrien gives her a thumbs up, still chewing. 

“Anyway, back to what we were talking about. Any other suggestions?” she asks.

He nods, finally swallowing. “I'll make you a list.”

It’s an impulsive decision when she fishes out her cell phone and hands it to him. “Here, text it to me.” 

Adrien grins, a touch too cocky to be charming. 

She’s not blind to the subtle shifts taking place between them, the more time they spend together. So far being with Adrien is comfortable. As long as they stay casual and her heart remains safely detached, Marinette doesn’t mind letting him close.

* * *

Animedrien: [are you still up?]

It's a little after ten on a Thursday night and they both have class in the morning. Funny how those finer details don’t seem to matter to him.

Marinette knows she should be the responsible one... but she's already replying.

[Yeah. Whats up?]

Animedrien: [Meet you in ten?]

[Ok]

Its pathetic how quickly she agrees.

It's almost eleven by the time she reaches the corner playground that has become their unofficial meeting spot, their moon-kissed world away from the harsh light of their daily lives. Adrien is sprawled out on the merry-go-round, the half-hearted kick of his foot keeping him in a lazy spin as he stares morosely up at the starless sky. The streetlights cut sharp angles in the night and the dancing shadows look good on him, they allude to the depth of him in a way that his practiced smile never quite does.

He's beautiful, she thinks, and not for the first time. All too often she’s reminded of the feel of his lips pressing insistently against hers, a hazy memory but startling nonetheless. It sends a pulse of want through her at random moments and sometimes when he sits beside her, she has to resist the urge to run her fingers through his sunny hair, just to see if it’s as soft as she remembers. 

Adrien is a very good looking young man. Her attraction to him is understandable. But he’s her soulmate. Acting on her physical attraction is only asking for trouble so she is determined to smother those errant desires whenever they arise. 

When Adrien notices her approach he beams, his smile lopsided and a little too wide. "Ahh... My Princess comes to grace me with her enchanting presence!"

She laughs, the pink in her cheeks most certainly from the early October air. "Can I at least sit down before you start with the dramatics," she snarks.

Coming to a stop, Adrien shifts his position to make room and holds out his hand in invitation. It's because of the autumn chill that she accepts his warmth and her heart absolutely does not flutter as he slings his arm over her shoulders.

“I speak only the truth, my little Cream Puff.”

“Adrien, I will throat punch you,” she warns, fighting a smile.

“Mmmm, feisty.”

While Adrien’s teasing is spot on, the scent of weed is clinging to his sweatshirt and they’ve been hanging out long enough now that she knows he only smokes when he is stressed and he can put on a happy front all he wants but she gotten really good at reading him and right now instinct is telling her Adrien is anything but fine. 

Tilting her head back, her smile slips into something more serious as she asks, “Okay, what’s wrong?”

He evades innocently, “Who said anything is wrong?” 

“Adrien…” Marinette gives him the look, the one that’s universal for calling out bullshit, and doesn’t bat an eye until he relents. 

“My dad and I got into it earlier,” he mutters, his expression darkening.

“What about?” But even as she asks he’s already turning his wrist in the meager light, his soulmark on display for the first time. Marinette takes in the familiar pattern, identical to her own, and says, “Oh.”

Adrien reaches in his pocket and pulls out the remains of a joint. He lights it up and takes a deep hit, holding in the smoke as he closes his eyes, trying to center himself. After a long moment he releases his breath, smoke pluming out in a frustrated sigh. “The fucker thinks he has the right to tell me what to do about this. I told him to mind his own damn business. He didn't like that very much.”

Adrien offers her the joint but Marinette shakes her head and wonders if she should press the issue. When he doesn’t elaborate, she asks, “Will you tell me what he said?”

“He wants your information so he can run a background check on you and your family.”

Marinette stiffens. “Fucking seriously?”

“Oh it gets better. He really believes that he’s doing me a favor by giving you the chance to meet his impossible expectations, but you won’t because no one ever does. So in the end he’ll probably bully you into never speaking to me again.” 

“He can try.”

“You don’t understand,” Adrien sighs, swearing under his breath in defeat. “My dad can and will. He has the resources. He has connections. He didn’t build his own software conglomerate from the ground up by playing nice.”

Adrien rarely mentions his wealthy background. Marinette hasn’t questioned it because it really has no bearing on their friendship but she thinks it would be an uncomfortable burden to bear if their relationship was of a serious nature. She’s not sure she could ever be comfortable in Adrien’s world, not when he rubs shoulders with people like Mayor Bourgeois’ stuck up daughter on a regular basis. 

And don’t get her started on his father. What little she knows of the man is not giving her a good impression of him. At. All.

“I can throat punch him for you, if you’d like.”

Adrien laughs, a touch of genuine humor lacing through the bitter sound. “Thanks, I think.” He sobers almost instantly, taking another drag from his joint and glaring at his wrist. “Are we ever going to talk about this?”

She knows they’ve put it off long enough but it doesn’t keep her stomach from turning to lead and sinking down to her toes. 

“I guess we have to,” she agrees. Pulling up the sleeve of her hoodie, Marinette allows Adrien to see her mark for the first time. It makes her feel weirdly vulnerable when he lines his wrist up to hers, the identical markings shimmering like sliver fire in the glow of the streetlights. So she takes cover behind her brutal honesty. “Look, don't take this personally but I've never wanted a soulmate and I still don’t.”

“I figured as much,” Adrien says, not the least bit put out. “You didn't exactly come hunt me down afterward.”

“You didn't either.” It’s not an accusation, just fact.

“I wasn't thrilled to find the mark on my wrist. I was bracing myself to suddenly get saddled with a clingy girlfriend or some shit. It felt surreal when that didn’t happen.”

Marinette understands that all too well. “I wasn’t sure what reaction to expect from you that first day of school. Most people think finding their soulmate is the best thing ever but you never hear people talk about it when it isn’t.” 

“Why don’t you want a soulmate? I mean, if you don't mind me asking.”

“We’re defined by our choices, right? We’re held accountable to them. And yet my soulmate is the one thing I don’t get a choice about. This is supposed to be one of the most important relationships in my life and it’s a choice made for me by fate. I’m just… I’m not okay with that.”

Anger, familiar and saturated with old hurt, purses Marinette’s lips. Snapshot memories try to pull her under... 

_Tom and Sabine’s pale faces as they whisper argue over the newly acquired mark on his wrist._

_“Oh Cupcake, it will be alright. You’re the light of my life and nothing can change that.”_

_An empty apartment and Tom’s wedding ring abandoned on the kitchen table._

“My parents,” she has to stop and take a deep breath to keep her voice from wobbling, “they had a great marriage. We were a happy family. Then my dad found his soulmate. A few months later he just up and left. He didn't look back. He followed his soulmate when he should have chosen his family.”

“Fuck, that's awful.” Adrien’s arm tightens around her shoulders. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

His sincerity is enough to take away the sting. 

Blinking away the tears she refuses to let fall, she peers up at Adrien curiously. “What's your reason?”

“My parents were soulmates. The picture-perfect couple and all that. Then we lost my mom in a car accident a few years back and now there’s this hole in our lives where she used to be and my dad’s never really gotten over it. He’s become this shell of a person. I don’t even recognize him anymore. But the worst is, he’s the only family I have now. I miss my mom, I think about her every day, but I function. I don’t hate the world and try to punish everyone around me. If that’s what losing a soulmate does to a person then I don’t want it.”

There’s a raw yearning in Adrien’s gentle eyes as he stares off into the distance and it hits Marinette in the gut. She’s seen that look in the mirror, reflected back at her when she’s at her lowest; when the loneliness is eating her alive and Sabine is off with her newest fuck toy, distracting herself in some stranger’s bed because that’s always easier than owning up to the way she’s failing her daughter. 

It’s not fair. None of this is.

Adrien blows out another puff of smoke and Marinette leans into his side, hoping her presence is a comfort and not adding to his stress. His lips quirk upward on one side, his smile a fragile thing. “So what do we do now?” 

Right then and there Marinette makes a silent promise to herself. She’ll do better by Adrien. He’s not his father and she is not her mother. They can fill each other’s empty spaces without being the center of each other’s worlds. They can care for each other and not become broken by the effort, not lose themselves in the give and take. 

“I enjoy spending time with you,” Marinette admits, knowing it needs to be said. “I’m cool with us being like this. We can be platonic soulmates.” 

He squints down at her, eyes bloodshot. “Is that even a thing?”

“I’m making it a thing.”

When Adrien snickers, she elbows his side fondly, feeling as if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

It feels really good to have a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.- Here is the second installment. I changed the chapter count because it may run longer. Now that we know why they don't want soulmates, lets see what happens when that pesky physical attraction starts becoming harder to ignore.


	3. We could bathe in all the lights

_If I told you we could bathe in all the lights_

_Would you rise up, come and meet me in the sky?_

_Would you trust me when you're jumping from the heights?_

_Would you fall in the name of love?_

Adrien's birthday is the 13th of October. And it falls on a Friday. Marinette thinks it's hilarious when Adrien grumbles about stupid superstitions and bad luck he doesn't need. It gives her the perfect idea for a gift.

Marinette rushes home after school on Thursday, taking advantage of her night off from the bakery. She rummages through her closet until she finds the jewelry making kit she hasn't used in years. She sorts through the glass beads, selecting only the green and black, the focal point charm being green with the black outline of a paw print.

She threads the beads on a grey cord, leaving it as a strand. She'll let Adrien decide if he wants to wear it on his wrist or use it as a key chain. It's nothing fancy but she knows he will appreciate the joke.

Besides, it's not like she has the money to actually buy him something. What little she makes at the bakery goes toward bills.

Satisfied with her handiwork, Marinette heads down to the kitchen hoping to scrounge up cereal or something for dinner because Sabine is broke and hasn’t been to the grocery store this week. She stops short when she finds a strange Asian man standing at the counter. He's downing a bottle of dark ale, bare chested and covered in ink.

Marinette swallows hard, discomfort crawling along her spine as he looks her over with a smile that's more like a sneer. "Like what you see, little girl?"

His accent is Chinese. That’s a new one.

Marinette takes a step back as his eyes roam down her body once more. She's still wearing the skinny jeans and hoodie she wore to school today but somehow the unwanted attention makes her feel naked.

The sound of Sabine's footsteps breaks the uneasy tension and fuck toy laughs before downing more of his ale.

"Marinette!" Sabine's voice is sharp with surprise as she eyes her daughter suspiciously. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I'm off tonight.”

“You should have told me,” Sabine snaps, giving fuck toy an apologetic shrug. 

Marinette looks back and forth between them, her mother with a smudged makeup that doesn’t quite hide the crows feet around her eyes and fuck toy who’s maybe ten years older than herself but obviously has a thing for MILFS. Her mother’s rumpled clothes tell her more than she truly wants to know.

“I’m getting out here,” Marinette says, stuffing her keys and cell into her pocket as she rushes to the front door. “You guys have fun.” She slams the door on Sabine’s squawking demand to know where she’s going and hits the stairs running. 

She’d rather go hungry than stay in that apartment another second.

* * *

Adrien, wonderful goofball that he is, takes to wearing her gift on his right wrist and telling anyone that asks that black cats bring him good luck.

Marinette takes to watching Adrien, cataloging the things she can learn about him when he doesn’t know she’s watching. 

What she discovers as the weeks pass is that Adrien is sincerely kind-hearted, always eager to help anyone that needs it and never asks for anything in return. He has a soft spot for Chloé but doesn’t seem to care for Lila much at all. He’s never lacking for companionship and seems completely at ease when he’s the center of attention. Sometimes, even surrounded by a crowd, he looks terribly lonely. 

Adrien’s smile never quite reaches his eyes. 

Not the way it does when he catches her watching. 

Marinette is not sure what to do with that bit of information.

* * *

Spinning slow circles in Alya’s desk chair, Marinette lets out a weary sigh, too tired to even change out of her work clothes. “You sure it’s okay? I don’t want to like... be in the way or anything…”

“Girl, chillax,” replies Alya. “The parental units said it’s fine. Having one more person here for Christmas is no biggie.” 

Marinette stops spinning and tosses her friend a macaroon from the box in her lap. Just then her phone chimes.

Animedrien: [merry xmas eve!] 

“He’s texting you again, isn’t he?” Alya asks with a knowing grin. 

Marinette chucks another macaroon at Alya and types a reply.

[Same to you. How is London?]

Animedrien: [fucking boring. I locked myself in the suite today so I could binge watch netflix. Dad is gonna blow a gasket when he gets my room service bill.]

[lol. what did you watch?]

Marinette chuckles when Alya pops up to read over her shoulder.

Animedrien: [A Christmas Story and then Nightmare Before Christmas and then Gremlins cuz it’s not xmas without Gizmo.]

[I’m jelly.]

Animedrien: [good thing you’re my jam…]

Alya bursts into a fit of giggles and Marinette rolls her eyes, cheeks flaming.

“I don’t care what you say, Mari. That boy has a thing for you.”

“He’s just being silly,” Marinette insists. 

“Maybe. But I see the way you look at him. And I see the way he looks at you. Just saying.”

[that doesn’t even make sense.]

Animedrien: [yes it does. you’re sweet and delicious.]

“Nope! Just friends my ass, Mari!” Alya cackles, shaking the desk chair in her excitement.

Marinette has to grab the cookies so they don’t spill everywhere.

[Alya is reading this too btw. She’s getting ideas.]

Animedrien: [Hi Alya!]

Animedrien: [i was worried you were home by yourself.]

“Awwww,” Alya coos.

[I’m crashing at Alya’s house tonight. Maybe tomorrow night too. Depends on if Sabine comes home or not.]

[Think you’ll get back early?]

Animedrien: [I’m gonna try.]

Animedrien: [can’t wait to give you your present.]

Alya nudges her arm none too gently. 

[i told you not to buy me anything.]

Animedrien: [you did. I, however, did not promise to listen.]

[grrr…]

Animedrien: [i didn’t buy it.]

Animedrien: [there. Only hint you get.] 

Animedrien: [good night my raspberry truffle.]

“Raspberry truffle… oh my gawd,” Alya chrotles.

“He’s ridiculous,” Marinette agrees, laughing helplessly.

[Good night, fruit cake.]

She can’t help the warmth that fills her or the way it bleeds into her smile as she pockets her phone and picks a lavender and honey macaroon from the box. Nibbling on the cookie, she finally dares to meet the force of Alya’s curiosity as the other girl flops down onto her bed with a bounce.

“Explain to me again why the two of you aren’t together already?”

Marinette shrugs. “We’re not like that.” _Though lately I’m beginning to wonder…_

“You don’t sound happy about it,” Alya points out gently.

“It’s not- I love what we have, you know?” 

“But…” 

Marinette nibbles more of her cookie as she tries to put her feelings into words. “I don’t _want_ things to change. I just… sometimes hormones kick in and- ugh!” she hides her face in her hands, flushing scarlet. 

“You want to jump his brains out,” Alya laughs.

“Look, it’s stupid. So we made out once-”

“As I recall you didn’t have any complaints.”

“-and it shouldn’t have happened so-”

“You two wouldn’t be so close if it hadn’t.”

“-I’m not going to fuck up what we do have by acting on it!”

“If that’s what you want then fine,” Alya says, holding her hands up placatingly. “Just remember, Adrien isn’t your father. Don’t sell him short because your dad was a douche.” 

“Adrien wants to keep things platonic too. That does not mean sticking my tongue down his throat, Al.”

“But if he wanted you to?”

Marinette refuses to answer, stuffing another macaroon into her mouth.

Point made, Alya shakes her head. “Girl, I love you but you are one strange cookie.”

“But you like my cookies,” Marinette retorts, taking a macaroon from the box and throwing it at her bestie. Then she bursts out laughing as Alya almost knocks off her glasses, fumbling to catch it. 

* * *

New Years Eve finds Marinette at the park, huddled in multiple layers to keep warm. She swings idly, her attention caught every so often by the showering sparkle of fireworks that light up the clear sky. 

There’s no denying the way her heartbeat picks up as she spies Adrien, hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat and beanie pulled firmly down over his ears as he walks in her direction. He waves when he sees her, his smile wide enough to split his cheeks.

Marinette doesn’t realize how much she’s missed him until something tight and anxious releases in her chest. It’s foolish because he was only in London for nine days. She shouldn’t be so affected. She needs to keep her cool. 

_We’re just friends._

She repeats that mantra as Adrien gets comfortable on the swing beside her and launches into a lighthearted rant about his mandatory vacation. 

And keeps repeating it every time her heart stutters as she gets caught in his impossibly green eyes. 

And practically screams it internally when Adrien grins, lopsided and shy as he says, “I’m glad I’m back. I missed you.” 

Things between them are shifting again. Does he realize that? Because she does and.. and goodness help her, she’s not sure she wants to stop it.

“I think I missed you too,” Marinette teases. 

Adrien arches a blond brow. “You think?”

Heat sears across Marinette’s cheeks, undermining her attempt at playing coy. 

Laughing gently, Adrien reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out a small, meticulously wrapped gift. “Merry Christmas.”

Marinette tears the paper carefully, or as carefully as she can wearing gloves, and opens the nondescript box with barely contained curiosity. Inside is a simple necklace, black cord with a silver disk charm in the center. The silver is embossed with a green eyed cat pawing at a tiny red ladybug. The necklace has a rustic quality that is obviously handmade and just the thought warms her heart.

“Did you make this?”

“I called in a favor, actually. I’m not that talented. I did draw the design, though.” He rubs the back of his neck, uncertain. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. Thank you.” Clutching the necklace to her chest with one hand, she pulls his gift out of her coat pocket, the brown paper bag she repurposed as wrapping paper crinkling as she hands it to Adrien. “This is for you. Merry Christmas.”

He rips into the paper with gusto, revealing a black beanie with sewn in in cat ears, trimmed in green. There is also a pair of black gloves with green trim as well. They match the bracelet she had made for his birthday. She hopes the hat and gloves don’t come across as childish.

Not that she needs to worry.

Beaming with excitement, Adrien doesn’t waste a second trading out his normal hat and gloves for the ones she gifted him. “These are awesome. Where did you get them from?”

“I made them,” she replies. When his eyes widen in awe she hastens to add, “Not entirely. I found the plain black set at the thrift store. I added the embellishments in art class.”

“You still made these for me…” Adrien turns the gloves over, laughing at the green toe beans on the pads of the fingers and the patch on the palm. “Best Christmas present, paws down.”

Then he’s gazing at her, all soft eyes and dopey smile, and Marinette really wants to kiss that goofy, heart-melting expression right off his face because it’s impossible to think platonic when he looks at her like she hung the stars just for him. 

Grasping at something- _anything_ \- to gently diffuse the undercurrent of tension humming between them, Marinette hops up from the swing, holding out her necklace to Adrien. “I could use some help putting it on.”

Adrien steps up behind her, the fine dusting of frost on the grass crunching under his boots. His breath is a warm puff against her ear as he tilts his head down to see better and she can’t help the shiver that has chill bumps rising along her skin. 

In the distance the countdown to midnight begins.

She turns to face Adrien, a vortex of butterflies in her stomach, and his eyes are already on her lips, his teeth nervously tugging at his own. His cheeks are ruddy from more than just the cold and she’s never seen his green eyes so clear and bright.

“I really want to kiss you, just this once,” he says softly, the desperate edge to his voice stripping away her inhibitions. But his shoulders are stiff and slightly hunched as if he expects her to say no, or maybe worse.

She knows it won’t be ‘just once”; the same way she knows that if they do this, there’s no taking it back come tomorrow. She also knows she won’t regret it, even if this complicates them exponentially. 

Embracing the recklessness that only Adrien seems able to inspire within her, Marinette rises on her tiptoes and kisses him with every ounce of pent up desire she has. 

All around them the sky explodes into a shower of cascading lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.- I’m pretty sure I got the necklace design from another fic but I honestly don’t remember which one it is so please forgive me. 
> 
> I also have this head canon that Adrien is a Libra and his b-day is Oct 13th. I feel Mari is a Pieces on the cusp of Aries and her b-day is around March 20th. I don’t know if the show contradicts this but since this is an AU it doesn’t have to match up. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Get ready, we’re upping the angst a notch in the next one.


	4. There's poison in your head

_When there's madness, when there's poison in your head_

_When the sadness leaves you broken in your bed_

_I will hold you in the depths of your despair_

_And it's all in the name of love_

It doesn’t take long for Marinette to realize that Adrien is starved for affection. 

She hadn’t put much thought into how their relationship would change once the physical barrier was breached. She’d been acting on impulse, between missing him and wanting him, and as a result her will power had caved in a moment of weakness. 

One kiss... turned into so many more… turned into hugs that last a little too long… turned into always touching in some way… turned into more than just her soulmark needing to remain covered up…

Marinette fiddles with her scarf, making sure it stays tucked around her neck as she slumps in the booth next to Adrien. Alya and Nino are sitting opposite, the boys engaged in a deep discussion about music. It’s nearly two in the morning and Marinette is having trouble keeping her eyes open now that her pleasant buzz is beginning to fade. Adrien’s thumb rubbing relaxing circles on her knee is certainly not helping. 

Their waitress drops off their change, rousing Alya from her cell phone. “Are you going home, Mari? Or sleeping over?”

Despite Adrien’s relaxed appearance, his hand tightens on her knee. He won’t ask but Marinette knows what he’s hoping she’ll say.

“I think I’m going to head home,” Marinette shrugs, keeping her tone casual. 

“I’ll make sure she gets there safe,” Adrien offers before Alya can voice her concern. Her honey eyes are shrewd but she bites back her curiosity and nods. 

A strange sort of lazy anticipation replaces Marinette’s exhaustion as she bids her friends goodbye, sharing a grin with Alya as Nino and Adrien fistbump. As soon as they are out of sight, Adrien slings an arm around her shoulder as they walk to the metro. It’s late Friday night and there are only a handful of other people riding transit. Despite their choice of seats, Adrien tugs her onto his lap, his arms snugly around her waist. 

“Any chance I could talk you out of going home?” The question is barely a breath against her ear, velvety and enticing.

Marinette grins. “You have a better idea?”

“You could come to my place. My dad is in New York so I've got the mausoleum all to myself.”

Adrien lets the offer hang between them, giving Marinette a chance to think it through. He doesn’t want to be alone and she doesn’t want him to be either… but this is a big step. It's a drastic difference from stealing kisses while on her break or making out in her room when Sabine isn’t home.

She’s never slept in a boy’s bed before.

"I'm not having sex with you."

Startled, Adrien wheezes, as if he can't tell if he should whine or laugh. "That- um... Mari- no," he sucks in a deep breath and it puffs her hair as he releases it in a soft whoosh. "Okay. That- that is not what I meant."

"I know," Marinette says with a shit-eating grin. "I just like fucking with you."

She thinks he mumbles "just you wait," but it's hard to tell with his face buried in her scarf.

The walk from the metro to Adrien's home is only a few blocks but it's far enough that Marinette feels like a frozen popsicle, even with Adrien's added body heat.

Once inside the stately townhouse where Adrien lives, it's easy to see why he calls it a mausoleum. Everything is Italian marble and monochromatic color schemes. Just the entryway alone is bigger than her flat and the way their shoes echo in the cavernous space is more than a little unsettling.

To Marinette's dismay, Adrien's bedroom is not much better. It's like a picture right out of a magazine, perfectly styled and completely impersonal. She definitely understands now why he was charmed by her chaotic and well lived-in bedroom.

The click of the lock sends an awkward kind of nervousness jittering down Marinette's spine. She stares at his enormous bed, tired enough to find it inviting but foreign enough that she wonders if she'll actually be able to sleep. She hears Adrien opening and closing drawers behind her, nearly jumping out of her anxious skin when he pulls her against his chest from behind.

"Here. These are the smallest clothes I've got," he says, pressing a folded t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts into her hands. "I thought you might want to change into something more comfortable."

"Thanks." She glances about noticing several closed doors. "Uh... bathroom?"

He points to the second door on the left and Marinette scurries off to change. Ten minutes later she returns, swallowed by his shirt that hangs nearly down to her knees, sans the shorts because they wouldn't stay up on her hips.

Adrien is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless as he fiddles with his phone. The sight makes Marinette's heart skip and her stomach dance.

His head snaps up at her approach, his eyes appraising her in a way that makes her skin feel hot and tingly. But the weight of his stare is tempered by the fond smile that curves his pretty lips.

"You look cute," he teases.

"And you're half naked," she snarks with a roll of her eyes.

"But we match."

Her white shirt says "I'm the cat's meow," written in black. His black pants have little white cats wearing red sunglasses.

Marinette can't help but laugh, some of the mounting tension easing away. He sets his phone aside, holding out his hand in an unspoken invitation and she doesn't hesitate to move forward.

She trusts Adrien. Maybe not with her heart, but certainly with her body.

It's only too easy to give herself over to his gentle hands as they stay politely above the waist but cheekily slip under her shirt. Marinette can't even bring herself to mind when he leaves a few new spots for her to cover up, secretly delighting in the way his stubble scrapes along her throat. And if her lips are a little kiss bruised tomorrow, well that's fine too.

He takes all the physical affection she's willing to give, soaking it up like a sponge until they both have trouble keeping their eyes open.

Surprisingly, even with Adrien clinging to her like a vine, it's still the best sleep she's had in a very long time.

* * *

On Valentine’s Day Marinette finds a bag of candy hearts in her locker. The note attached says: _Sugar is sweet, these hearts are too. Here’s some diabetes, from me to you._

It’s definitely not a cheesy love confession.

It’s perfect.

* * *

His eyes are on her, crawling over her skin like an army of ants.

Ushi- Marinette still prefers to call him fuck toy- is watching her from the table as she loads her clothes into the washing machine. She ignores him as best she can but his presence is grating on her patience. Usually she is good at keeping herself occupied and away from home, but it’s her night off and needs to wash her clothes. 

It wouldn’t be so bad if fuck toy wasn’t always underfoot. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t have a job, but since Marinette actively tries to avoid him, she could be wrong. If Sabine is stupid enough to let him mooch off of her then that’s her mother’s problem.

Still, fuck toy makes her uncomfortable on purpose. 

He’s always saying how pretty Marinette is and like mother, like daughter. Sabine thinks it’s charming but Marinette doesn’t want him thinking she’s pretty. She doesn’t want him thinking about her at all. And that one time, when he walked in on her as she was getting out of the shower, she’d learned the hard way to start locking doors after that. The fuck toy said it was an accident but his arrogant smirk told Marinette otherwise. 

Another thing that pisses her off is how fuck toy only speaks Mandarin when Sabine is around. His French just fine but he knows Marinette’s Mandarin is horrible and he will speak it on purpose so that she has trouble following along with the conversation. That and he always calls her “ladybug” making fun of her necklace. Sabine thinks it’s cute but Marinette finds it anything but endearing.

She’s tried to tell her mother how she feels but Sabine just brushes her off, saying things like “Ushi doesn’t mean any harm” or “Marinette, you’re being too sensitive” or “Don’t be jealous, Marinette”. 

_He’s the fucking problem but somehow it’s all my fault._

As if fuck toy can read her thoughts, he says in fluent French, “I think you dropped something, piáo chóng. You should bend over again and make sure.”

_So fucking gross._

Marinette starts the wash cycle, refusing to say a word because her disgusted expression says it all. The sound of fuck toy’s laughter follows behind her as she escapes to her room, locking the door. 

More than anything, Marinette hates that she feels like an outsider in her own home.

* * *

It may not be the smart thing to do, but Marinette focuses her attention on Adrien. 

On what they are and what they aren’t. On what boundaries they can push. On just how reckless they dare to be. 

He’s a fever under her skin. An addiction in her brain. There are hooks in her heart, trying to pull her down into the bottomless sea of them. Her head is barely above water and the waves are crashing. 

Marinette is content to learn Adrien’s patterns; the way the muscles in his back ripple under her nails, how he will burn himself out trying to please everyone, the way idly combing her fingers through his hair will turn him boneless in her arms, that something as simple as asking how his day is going makes him genuinely happy.

He's her favorite subject to study. So of course she notices the series of dark, splotchy bruises on his side.

Adrien’s head is resting on Marinette’s chest, his arms tightly wound around her waist. His bare skin is warm against her own as he nuzzles the expanse of skin above her cotton bra. As he shifts to slip his leg between hers, Marinette gasps, noticing the purple-ish discoloration starting at the edge of his ribs and following down to near the waistband of his jeans.

“Adrien, what happened?”

Before she can properly ask, Adrien is already peering down at his side with a one-shoulder shrug. “Oh, that. I got roughed up playing basketball. No worries.”

His clothes smelled like weed again.

Even laying half on top of her, he’s still unnaturally tense.

If Marinette paid less attention to Adrien, she might have fallen for the reassuring smile he flashes her before distracting her with a toe-curling kiss. 

* * *

Marinette is sent home from work early on Saturday because the bakery is slow. She’s picked up as many shifts as she can during spring holiday, hoping to be anywhere but home, but there isn’t anything she can do if business is scarce.

The only highlight to the week is that her eighteenth birthday is coming up on Friday and she has plans to party with her friends.

The minute Marinette walks into the apartment she knows something is wrong. There is tension in the air and it’s thick enough to cut with a knife. Then Sabine comes stumbling into the living room, nearly empty bottle of wine in her hand and a murderous expression on her face. She begins yelling over her shoulder, back toward the direction of her bedroom, in a slightly slurred mix of French and Mandarin. Marinette can piece together enough to know that Sabine thinks fuck toy is cheating on her. 

Good. Maybe she’ll finally kick his ass to the curb like he deserves.

Only Sabine doesn’t stop there. She rounds on Marinette next, accusation burning hot in her steel grey eyes. “And you’re no better! You think I don’t see you flirting with Ushi?” she snarls. “And right in front of me, like I’m not even there!”

She shouldn’t argue with Sabine, Marinette knows that. Her mother is a mean drunk and fighting back will only encourage Sabine to lash out even more. Still, she can’t bite back her fury, not in the wake of Sabine’s spectacularly shitty choices. 

“What are you talking about, Mom? I’ve told you he gives me the creeps. How is that flirting?” Marinette doesn’t even care that fuck toy is standing in the doorway, listening to everything she says. 

“I know what I see. Are you calling me a liar?” There is a warning implied in Sabine’s tone, soft but threatening nonetheless.

Intending to seek solace in her bedroom, she shoves past her mother, angry tears beginning to sting her eyes as she snaps, “Sober up or leave me alone.” 

Unlucky for Marinette, Sabine won’t be denied the fight she’s itching for so she grabs her daughter’s arm, yanking her back and dislodging a few of the scrunchies around Marinette’s left wrist in the process. 

Soul marks are not subtle. 

Marinette pales as Sabine stares at the mark with absolute contempt.

“How long have you been hiding that from me?” 

Stubbornly, Marinette presses her lips into a thin line, refusing to answer. 

“How long? Sabine yells, the question echoing in the deafening silence. 

Marinette stands her ground and says nothing.

The crack of Sabine’s palm against her cheek has Marinette’s ear ringing, the force of the blow jerking her head to the side. Before she can bring her hands up to defend herself, or even take a step back, Sabine grabs hold of her chin, her fingers digging painfully into Marinette’s cheeks. 

“That mark is a lie,” Sabine scoffs, getting right up in Marinette’s face. “Hide it. Flaunt it. I don’t fucking care. Just remember; if you think it makes you special, if you think it means anything, then you're going to be mighty disappointed.” 

Sabine only release her rough hold when fuck toy takes her by the shoulders and pulls her away. But not before she hisses, “The only difference between that and a marriage certificate is you can't get rid of that lousy mark.”

Humiliated and hurting with the truth of Sabine’s words lacerating her heart, Marinette flees to her room, barely managing to lock the door before she breaks apart.

When Adrien texts her a few hours later, she doesn’t respond.

She’s already been disappointed enough for a lifetime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.- Just to clarify, Adrien is already 18 and Marinette is about to make 18. Hopefully things will work out for these two. One chapter left. Woo Hoo!!!


	5. All in the name of love

_I wanna testify_

_Scream in the holy light_

_You bring me back to life_

_And it's all in the name of love_

It takes four missed calls from Adrien and five increasingly concerned text messages before Marinette’s self preservation collapses with the grace of a house of cards.

Still, she stares at her phone not knowing what to say because she doesn’t want to saddle Adrien with her baggage, not when he’s already weighed down with his own. But she doesn’t want to lie either so she refuses to say she’s fine because she’s not. If she tries calling him he’s going to hear the lingering tears in her voice and she doesn’t want that either.

She is just about to type that she’s alive and will call him tomorrow when an incessant tapping starts on her window. 

_Of course it’s him. Who the fuck else would it be?_

Pulling herself together as best she can, Marinette moves aside the curtain and, sure enough, there is Adrien crouching down on the fire escape, three stories up and completely at his wits’ end. As she unlocks the window, moving aside so he can climb in, he’s already gently scolding her. 

“What the hell, Mari? You haven’t answered your phone and I’ve been worried sick…” but Adrien’s tirade dies off when he finally looks at her. 

Marinette hates what he sees; that her eyes are red rimmed and puffy and her cheek is slightly swollen and there may even be bruises from Sabine’s fingers and still worse than all of that is how she feels small and so fucking insignificant that she can’t lift her gaze higher than his chin.

When Adrien doesn’t say anything, only ever so lightly traces his thumb against her tender cheek, she finally dares to look up. It occurs to her then, that she’s never seen Adrien truly angry before. She’s seen him frustrated, annoyed and even defensive, but not this. His usually warm expression is pinched with cold fury and it sends a shiver down her spine.

“What happened?” he asks with a scary kind of calm.

Why does her voice have to wobble as she says, “My mom’s an asshole when she’s drunk.”

For a moment his hard glare shifts past her to the door, as if he’d like nothing more than to take on her mother and anyone else that gets in his way, but they both know that any kind of confrontation is a bad idea, especially since Adrien isn’t even supposed to be here. Instead he pulls her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. 

Marinette sinks into Adrien and he’s holding her so tight that it makes her feel safe and fuck if she can remember the last time she’s felt like this, like someone actually cares enough to want to protect her. 

She needs _this_ , needs _him_ , so very much.

But that doesn’t make exposing her vulnerabilities any easier. 

Sniffling, a new wave of tears spill over as Marinette admits, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Adrien presses a kiss to her hair. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to not be okay.” 

He doesn’t say that everything will be alright. 

They both know that would be a lie.

* * *

Curled up against Adrien, with his heart beating a gentle lullaby in her ear, Marinette accepts that despite her best efforts she’s falling hard for her soulmate.

She thinks she loves him.

It’s a terrifyingly exhilarating feeling but Marinette is nothing if not a realist; so she vows to keep that knowledge to herself and enjoy what they have for as long as she possibly can. 

She’s not naive enough to believe this will last just because they are soulmates.

* * *

Green is not Marinette’s color.

She could lie and say she’s not jealous but Alya’s sympathetic smile tells her that she’s being more obvious about it than she realizes. Across the dance area the red-headed bitch- probably not the girl’s name but it works for Marinette- puts her hand on Adrien’s arm for the third time as she laughs at something he’s saying. 

To Adrien’s credit, he’s not encouraging her subtle advances, he’s simply talking to some friends and not really paying the red-headed bitch any mind. 

To Marinette’s rising annoyance, he’s not discouraging her advances by ignoring the attention either. 

_Well, so much for having fun on my birthday._

Purposely turning her back on Adrien and the bitch, Marinette tries to focus on her friends. Rose, Juleka and Alix have all come to the rave to make sure she has a good time and she doesn’t want to let them down. Taking the blue solo cup Nino hands her, she hopes there is enough alcohol in it to bring back her buzz because nothing is more of a mood killer than some desperate cunt with their claws all over her boyfriend-

Actually, that’s kind of the problem. Adrien isn’t her boyfriend. She’s not sure what they are but whatever it is the label “boyfriend” has never been applied. And by that logic she’s not Adrien’s “girlfriend” either. So she is perfectly within her rights to talk- or dance- with anybody she wants.

A below-the-belt idea takes shape in her head.

Since she and Adrien have kept whatever they are on the down low, she can’t exactly storm over to his side and suddenly stake her claim. Alya and Nino are the only ones that know about the soul marks and it really needs to stay that way. But that doesn’t mean she can’t commandeer Adrien’s attention in other ways. 

Marinette knocks back her drink and turns to Rose. "I'm borrowing your girlfriend, 'kay."

The petite blond waves a hand in acknowledgement, remaining focused on her conversation with Alix.

Grabbing Juleka by the hand, Marinette jerks her thumb toward the writhing crowd. "Wanna give these boys and girls a show?"

Juleka has had enough alcohol that her usually reserved smile is down right fierce.

It takes a little maneuvering but with Juleka's help Marinette manages to climb onto the platform where the speakers reside and starts dancing.

It's something they've done before so Marinette doesn't really think twice about Juleka's hands splayed on her waist or looping her arms around the taller girl's neck. But to the audience they're acquiring it seems a bit more provocative, especially when Marinette leans back against Juleka and shimmies her hips.

She can hear faint whistles and cat-calls over the throb of the music along with the weight of dozens of eyes trained on her but there's only one pair she's interested in and sure enough, Adrien is giving her exactly what she wants. He's watching her over the rim of his cup, the red-headed bitch completely forgotten.

She winks betting that he can read her expression far better than she can his in the distorted lighting. When he starts weaving through the crowd toward her makeshift stage, more than just her good humor returns.

The closer he advances Marinette can see that Adrien's smirk is sinful and his eyes are hungry, which means she has him right where she wants him...

Actually, that part comes later as they stumble into his bedroom, lips locked and hands fumbling. Hours of behaving themselves have taken their toll and it's a good thing Gabriel Agreste is out of town yet again because Marinette's pretty sure she will spontaneously combust if they don't see this through.

She didn't shave and wear her best set of underwear tonight for nothing.

Adrien isn't a virgin, he was honest and upfront about that, and Marinette is hoping that come tomorrow she won't be either. 

From the beginning he's deferred to her wishes and let her set the pace. He's always waited patiently until she was comfortable to push further. He's never pressured her into being with him. Funny enough, that just makes her want him all the more.

With every article of clothing that hits the floor, Marinette's nervous anticipation is building, coiling tight. Her body is alight with sensation as Adrien's touch cuts paths across her skin, both familiar and new.

It takes a fair amount of courage to lay herself bare but there's a slight tremble in his hands and the unabashed way he's so eager to please her, as if every dip and curve and freckle demands worship, she feels divinely beautiful.

When their bodies come together, it's more. So much more. It's impossible to separate herself from the intensity and all she can do is cling to him tightly as she comes apart, their hearts pounding in tandem, brows touching, sharing the same breath.

There's an "I love you" hanging on the tip of her tongue but she lets Adrien lazily kiss the words away.

Nerves tingling and body deliciously sore, there's only one thought on Marinette's mind as they cuddle in the afterglow.

_Happy birthday indeed._

* * *

There is a sneaking suspicion lurking in the shadows of Marinette's thoughts. The only evidence she can claim is written on Adrien's skin in the occasional hues of vivid purple and sickly yellow.

But there is also reasonable doubt. Adrien is active in sports; he plays basketball and takes karate, both competitive, physical contact sports. They allow for convenient excuses.

Still, she worries, unsure if she should press the issue. Is what she thinks she's seeing a horrible truth or just her tendency to catastrophize the smallest of things?

Adrien told her it's okay not to be strong. She wonders if he applied that to himself as well.

* * *

Graduation looms on the horizon only weeks away. Adrien smells like weed more often than not and there are stress lines constantly furrowing his brow.

By the third night he hangs around the bakery until she clocks out, Marinette is done dancing around this new change in his pattern.

Fingers laced with his, she peers up him questioningly as they walk the long route to her flat. "I want to ask if you're okay but I already know you'll tell me you're fine when you very obviously are not."

Adrien cocks head his slightly, side-eyeing her. "So... am I supposed to answer or was that rhetorical?"

"That's me nicely calling you out so that you will actually tell me what's been bothering you."

He hesitates for a moment and Marinette swears that if the next words out if his mouth are "I'm fine" she’s going to scream. Repeatedly.

Surprisingly, it’s not.

"I've been under a lot of pressure from my father about university. He's been breathing down my neck again to get the ball rolling and settle on a school but... I... I don't know," he shrugs, "I think I want to wait. At least until I figure out what I want to major in."

"It's definitely better to know before you commit," Marinette agrees, squeezing his hand in support.

"We've been getting into it every time I see him. I don't even want to be near the mausoleum right now," admits Adrien wryly.

They've talked about university in the abstract but Adrien has never sounded enthusiastic about it and his father has everything to do with that, she's sure. His grades are impeccable and he's been accepted to every university his father insisted he apply. Gabriel should be proud of his son, not pressuring him further.

Marinette's inclined to prompt him to wait and take his time figuring himself out but encouraging that would be as much for her as it would be for Adrien. She can't fault anything that would let her keep him just a little longer.

Aw hell. She hates to suggest it, she really does because when the time comes it will hurt, it might even break what is left of her heart, but she has to put Adrien first. Goodness knows no one else in his life will.

Striving for a light tone, Marinette says, "On the plus side, going off to uni would get you away from your father. Maybe you need a little breathing room."

"Yeah, I do, but I don't have to go away to school for that. I have an old friend that’s been wanting me to stay with him. He knows how my father can be and is always asking me when I'm moving in."

"He lives here in Paris?"

“No, in Calais. I lived out there too, when I was younger. Felix and I were inseparable back then.”

There’s a wistfulness in Adrien’s voice that makes her chest hurt. “It’s good that you have that option.” She really tries to mean that.

“I was debating going out there after graduation but that was before I had a reason to stick around here,” he says with a sly grin.

Adrien means to be sweet, no doubt, but the hollow feeling settling in Marinette’s chest doesn’t quite go away. Even after Adrien is sound asleep, squished against her back in her too small bed, she finds herself fighting back the urge to cry in the darkness.

Because even though she expected they wouldn’t last, she thought they’d have a little more time. 

Adrien has a chance for a fresh start away from his father and she refuses to be the reason he lets it slip away. 

Marinette loves him. It has to be enough to let him go.

* * *

Graduation comes and with it a collective sigh of relief. Sabine attends the commencement ceremony but doesn’t stick around after since she and fuck toy are apparently back on again and they have plans. Gabriel doesn’t bother to show his face at all and Marinette thinks that if he had she would have been hard pressed not to sucker punch the son-of-a-bitch right in his pretentious face.

As it is, unlike her friends, Marinette is not able to relax. No longer having school as a refuge and with Alya spending the summer in Martinique visiting family, she’s stuck spending more time at the flat with fuck toy once more underfoot. 

Even spending time with Adrien has become difficult thanks to Gabriel.

Adrien comes up with new excuses for his bruises and Marinette only feels at ease when he is physically there for her to hold, so she can see with her own eyes that he is okay. It makes trying to distance herself from him that much harder. It’s not helping that Adrien is stubbornly ignoring every prod she gives him to go to Calais. Even though it’s shredding her heart she has to push. He needs to get away while he still can. 

Marinette has a sinking feeling that something is going to happen and this fragile balance they are managing to keep is going to get blown to hell. 

She really hates it when she’s right.

* * *

Marinette is running the register, slam in the middle of a lunch rush when her phone explodes with one text behind the other. It's still a good forty five minutes before she can hide in the kitchen long enough to check her messages.

Animedrien: [are you still at work?]

Animedrien: [I need to talk to you]

Animedrien: [It's important]

Animedrien: [I'm laying low at Nino's for now.]

Animedrien: [When do you get off?]

Marinette’s stomach twists in a vicious knot, fingers shaking as she replies.

[at 2:00]

Animedrien: [meet at your place?]

[Ok. My window is unlocked.]

The last hour and half of her shift seems like the longest of her life.

As soon as she's free, Marinette is running, taking the shortest way home and cutting through two side alleys, something she's normally not comfortable doing. Inside her building, she takes the stairs two at a time, ignoring the burning in her side, her mind in full on panic mode.

Adrien is sitting on her bed when she bursts into the room, out of breath and frantic. Only she doesn’t have to ask what’s wrong. The nasty shiner and busted lip he’s sporting answers some of her questions. The overstuffed backpack by his feet answers the rest.

Marinette knows she should say something, do something, but it feels like a fist is crushing her lungs and every heartbeat is as sharp as nails. 

_You knew this moment was coming. Put on your big girl panties and get it together._

It’s Adrien that finally breaks the silence. “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here anymore,” he says, his voice raw and weary. 

She still can’t bring herself to say anything, she doesn’t trust the stinging behind her eyes. Her movements feel wooden as she approaches, her hard-won composure is as fragile as spun glass, and Adrien can probably see right through her because his eyes are glassy as he takes her hands and tugs her down onto his lap. 

“Come with me.”

Marinette blinks, the fact that Adrien won’t readily leave her behind taking her by surprise. It shouldn’t, but it does. Then it’s another second for her brain to start compiling a list of reasons why running away together would never work. 

“Pease, Mari. I don’t want to do this without you.” He pins her with his earnest gaze and his heart may as well be on display.

She wants to say yes so badly that refraining physically aches. “What you’re asking… that’s a big step, you know.” She swallows, her mouth suddenly dry. “How would we even make it work?”

“We can stay with Felix, just until we get our own place.” 

“What will we do for money?” she asks, trying to make sense of the logistics. “It could take time to find jobs or at least ones that will pay enough for us to live on our own.” 

A spark of excitement animates Adrien, something akin to a real smile curling the corner of his mouth. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d been tossing this idea around for a while. I have a trust fund left to me by my mother. I can access it now that I’m eighteen and the first thing I did was take my father’s name off it so that he couldn’t touch it. So yeah, we’ve got money covered.”

Marinette looks anywhere but at Adrien’s face. He’s making her think this could work and she won’t get her hopes up. Not yet. Her eyes land in the colorful scrunchies on her wrist and she pulls them off, baring her mark and part of her soul with it. “This,” she says, turning her wrist to catch the light, “this isn’t a guarantee. We’re young. We’re making a rash decision. There’s a very real chance that we won’t make it in the long run.” 

Adrien doesn’t instantly disagree. He considers what she’s saying, tracing his index finger over the silvery design on her skin. She shivers and his smile widens as far his split lip will allow, his eyes determined. 

“You’re right. We don’t know what the future holds but I’m willing to take that chance. What I do know is that I’m not here because of this,” he taps her mark, “I’m with you because you actually give a damn about me. I don’t feel alone when I’m with you. And I’d still be right here even without the mark because you make me happy,” Adrien says, perfectly confident in his admission. 

Is it really that simple?

Maybe. Because Marinette has spent so long focused on what love isn’t that she’s almost forgotten what love is. It’s hard to mistake her feelings for anything else when her heart is near bursting with warmth and affection.

“You make me happy too.” Touching her head to his, she carefully cups his non-bruised cheek in her palm. This time when the words press to be spoken she doesn’t hold them back. “I love you.” 

“Wow...” Adrien laughs, his arms squeezing her middle so tightly she squeaks, “I think you are the only person aside from my mother that’s ever said that to me.” Which is awful but it can’t sadden her when Adrien is watching her with wide, wet eyes and he’s grinning despite the way it must hurt, looking anything but sad. “I love you too, cream puff.” He pecks a light kiss to her lips. “Come with me?”

If she leaves Sabine then she’s not any better than her father, is she? 

No. No this isn’t the same. It may not be fair but Sabine has never put Marinette’s needs before her own. It’s time that Marinette does the same. 

“Yes, I’ll come with you. I just need to pack a few things.”

Marinette gathers her things in a flurry, half her attention distracted in taking everything essential and the other fervently praying to any higher power listening that Sabine and fuck toy don’t return home until after she and Adrien have made their escape. She barely remembers to take the keepsake box stashed under her bed.

The last thing she does before leaving the flat is write a brief note to Sabine. She wants her mother to understand that this is what she needs to do, that her leaving is not a permanent goodbye unless Sabine wants it to be.

It isn’t until they’re settled in their seats, the bus pulling into traffic, that the reality of what they are doing hits Marinette.

They’ll be free; no shitty parents keeping them for their potential, no more hidden soul marks to keep people from asking unwanted questions, no more fuck toy giving her the creeps, no longer needing to worry if Adrien is safe when he’s out her sight…

Marinette could keep adding to that list, so many little things, some that haven’t even occurred to her yet, and all of it is a weight lifted off of her shoulders. 

She turns to Adrien and he’s already watching her with soft eyes and an even softer grin. Their fingers are tangled together and he gives her hand a squeeze.

“We’re really doing this,” he says, almost as if everything is too good to be true.

“We are,” she agrees, “together.” 

“Together,” he sighs happily, his soul mark shimmering from the window’s light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - So there you have it. Nothing like a fresh start and being crazy in love to temp you to follow your dreams. Spoiler alert: they live happily ever after.


End file.
